


Creature of Habit

by Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat



Series: Recovery Phrases [2]
Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Recovery, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat/pseuds/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat
Summary: “Hi!” They said. It occurred to Habit that he’d never heard their voice. “Um… Kamal sent me! He said that, since Wallus is sick and he can’t be here, I should come check on you!”He couldn’t do this. He had to close the door on them. He had to wait until they left. He had to tell them he was fine and they could go away and he could wait for Kamal. He had to turn them down, or they’d see how broken he was.“Hello, Flower Child!” He said. “Would you like to come in?” Daisy grinned at him and nodded. He stepped aside so they could come inside, and then shut the door behind them. “I am sorry if things are a bit of a mess right now, I wasn’t expecting company!”
Relationships: Flower Kid & Dr. Boris Habit, Kamal Bora & Dr. Boris Habit, Kamal Bora & Flower Kid, Kamal Bora/Wallus Breadbear
Series: Recovery Phrases [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854331
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Creature of Habit

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to explore some more recovery! I don't think this is good as In the Eye of the Beholder (probably cuz I think that might be the best thing I've ever written) but I'm proud of this one too! I hope you enjoy!

It was a wonder that he could pull himself out of bed at all.

He thought everyday about what he’d done, about how he’d messed everything up, about how he’d hurt so many people. He thought everyday about how he still hurts people. He hadn’t stopped hurting people, and he knew that, and it tore him apart. 

He should be a good person by now.

It was a bad start to the day for Boris Habit. First, he’d actually slept until his emergency alarm, too tired to face the dawn like he usually does. Then, he’d checked on the garden and found that some bugs got to his tulips. He didn’t even have time to help them, before it was time to get ready for therapy. Usually the early appointments don’t bother him, but he just couldn’t get up that day, for some reason.

The worst part was when Kamal called.

“Hey, Boris,” he said from across town. “I’m really sorry, I’m not gonna be able to drive you to therapy today. You all right to take the bus?”

He wasn’t. The bus was too loud and smelly and it jostled funny.

“Of course! That is fine!” He replied. “Are you all right?”

“Wallus is sick,” Kamal said, “and I’m gonna stay home to look after him.”

Habit’s stomach churned. “Okay… well, tell him I hope he’s better soon!”

“I will!” Kamal replied, but Habit could tell from his overly chipper tone that he wouldn’t. He didn’t blame him. “You’d better get going if you’re gonna make it.”

“Oh! Yes! I will talk to you later?” It always came out as a question.

“Yeah, you will, don’t worry.” And every time, Kamal always said he would.

“Goodbye, Kamal,” Habit said. Kamal started to reply, but there was a retching noise in the background and he hung up quickly. Habit pretended that it didn’t bother him as much as it did. It wasn’t like Kamal had meant to, he was just worried about his boyfriend.

It made Habit’s heart ache.

He was right about the bus. It was noisy, and smelled gross and the jerking motions made him feel as sick as he was sure Wallus was. He was nonverbal by the time he made it to his therapist’s office, and he had to use a weird mix of ASL and writing to get through the appointment. It was a pretty standard one. Was he eating, was he sleeping, was he doing hobbies, was he talking to people. The answer to them all is yes. The problem was a few other questions had the answer yes too.

Was he still drinking? Had he scratched at his arms again? Was he still having nightmares?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

He left the session not feeling any better. Feeling worse, in fact. Still, he plastered on a close lipped smile and waved goodbye to his therapist and the secretary. He went to a different bus stop then he’d gotten off at.. Kamal always parked far away from the clinic because the parking lot there was always full since it was a small place. He had to go this way to get to where he usually parked. There was a bus stop here, so he might as well go this way. 

It was as much habit as anything else.

Stopping in front of the large glass windows of the flower shop was habit too. He can always see one of the Heathers in the shop, either watering flowers or helping a customer. They’re a wonderful family, but he can’t help feeling guilty when he thinks about them. Both because of how he hurt Daisy, and because of how he lied to Anthony and Aaron. 

Well… technically Kamal had lied and he just hadn’t corrected him.

When he stopped today, he caught Aaron’s eye. He grinned and gave him a big, exaggerated wave. Habit could only muster a small one back, but Aaron didn’t seem to mind. Habit could see the top of Daisy’s head coming out from around the counter, so he started for the bus stop again.

They’d talked since the Habitat. They took him up on his offer for coffee (even though they’d gotten tea), and they’d emailed back and forth for a month and a half after that. It fell apart. Daisy still tried, they tried at least once a week, often more. Habit just couldn’t face them. 

He couldn’t face their disgusting teeth.

“No!” He mumbled to himself. “Rude! Bad!” Someone walking past him shot him an odd glance, but he didn’t care. Dismantling negative thoughts took talking out loud, at least to him.

The bus ride home wasn’t much better. It was less smelly for some reason (and that was a little scary), but it was still loud. By the time he got home, he really did feel like he was going to be sick from the jerking. He managed to stumble inside and fall onto his couch. He stayed there for at least an hour, just staring into space and feeling numb. Eventually, he went and made lunch. Just a sandwich and some chips, he didn’t have it in him to make more. He went out to the garden to deal with the bugs around his tulips. He came inside, tried to eat dinner, and ultimately had nothing but alcohol.

He stumbled to bed, and dreamed about broken flower pots and teeth.

* * *

It was two days after his therapy appointment when his doorbell rang. 

He hadn’t heard from Kamal, so he was eager to open the door. Well, that was an exaggeration. Kamal had emailed him that he would likely be off Habit’s radar for a little while, since Wallus was dealing with a pretty bad case of the flu. It took a lot of self talk to not feel bitter about it.

He opened the door and looked down some so Kamal would come into view, but he had to keep looking to meet Daisy’s eye.

“Hi!” They said. It occurred to Habit that he’d never heard their voice. “Um… Kamal sent me! He said that, since Wallus is sick and he can’t be here, I should come check on you!” 

He couldn’t do this. He had to close the door on them. He had to wait until they left. He had to tell them he was fine and they could go away and he could wait for Kamal. He had to turn them down, or they’d see how broken he was.

“Hello, Flower Child!” He said. “Would you like to come in?” Daisy grinned at him and nodded. He stepped aside so they could come inside, and then shut the door behind them. “I am sorry if things are a bit of a mess right now, I wasn’t expecting company!”

“It’s not messy, just lived in!” Daisy said with a grin. Their teeth were still missing, and Habit had to swallow back a self deprecating thought. “I love your garden, by the way! Very pretty!”

“Oh! Thank you!” Habit preened at the praise, and he gave them a more genuine smile (still close lipped). “Would you like to work in it with me? That is usually what I do to pass my time.”

“Of course!” Daisy said. They excitedly took his hand and led him back out of the house. He started, but they didn’t let go. He found that he didn’t hate it. Normally when someone (besides Kamal) touched him, he would want to shred his skin off. But Daisy’s gentle hold on his hand makes him feel… warm. “What do you want to work on first?”

Their question snapped him out of his musing. “Oh! Well… the roses need some water… and I think the daffodils need to be replanted.”

“I think they’re all right where they are…” Daisy said quietly. Habit had to bite back a rude remark and remind himself that they did this for a living. “I can help you water though!”

“Yes! That would be nice!” Habit said. Daisy grinned at him and darted to the back of the house where his gardening shed was. He followed at a much slower pace, trying to think things over.

Kamal cared enough to make sure someone came to see him. It was comforting to know that he cared still. Habit should have known, he told himself, but it was nice to be reminded. Daisy hadn’t seemed scared at all. They never had, not the three times the two of them had gotten coffee, and not in any of their emails. That was nice too, to know that they weren’t afraid.

He was.

They spent most of the morning watering flowers and otherwise tending to Habit’s garden. They didn’t talk, not much. Daisy had never been one for words, and Habit was afraid of saying something that was too much. When the sun was about overhead, there was a loud noise from Daisy. When Habit jumped and turned to look at them, they chuckled.

“Stomach,” they said. “I’m uh… I’m pretty hungry.”

Habit chuckled and stood. “I can make you lunch, if you’d like!” He offered. Daisy grinned and nodded. They took his hand again when the two of them went inside, and he still didn’t want to shred his skin off.

Lunch was simple, just some rice and chicken. Daisy “helped” by dancing around the kitchen and singing loudly into a wooden spoon. It made Habit laugh, and he joined in when he recognized the songs (which wasn’t often, but he tried). After about fifteen songs, everything was done, and Habit brought the food to his dining room.

He stared at the four chairs around it for a moment. Why did he have that many chairs? He didn't need that many chairs. No one came to see him. No one was here for him. No one loved him.

“Habit?” He jumped and turned around quickly. Daisy was looking at him with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Yes!” He said, a little too quickly. “I am just fine! Let’s eat, before it gets cold!” Daisy nodded and the two of them sat down.

Daisy kept asking him questions, questions that reminded him of his therapist. How had he slept last night? His cooking was great, did he do it often? He wasn’t in pain from being bent over in the garden, was he? He didn’t need to take any medications, did he? He answered them as best as he could, trying to be both honest but not let them know how much he was suffering.

“Oh! Your glass is empty!” Daisy said about halfway through the meal. “Do you have a water pitcher?”

“Ah… yes! I do! Let me just-”

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!” They were up and in the kitchen before he could protest. He sunk low in his chair when they looked in the fridge. “Oh…” He put his face in his hands. “That’s… a lot of gin.”

“Yes… yes it is,” Habit replied quietly. 

“Hmm… we can’t have that,” Daisy said. They said it as if it were a mild nuisance, like a dandelion that grew on the wrong side of the garden fence. “How much do you think you can get rid of without dealing with withdrawal while I’m gone?”

Habit was quiet for a long moment, and Daisy looked ready to say something else when he replied. “Throw it all out,” he mumbled.

“You’ll just buy more,” they said, “so, if we’re going to not drain your bank account… come tell me how much you think you can get rid of.”

Habit came over to the fridge and took one of the full bottles out of it. He took the top off and, on autopilot, began to lift it to his mouth. Daisy gripped his elbow tightly, and he brought his hand down again. “Right. Sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. Daisy just gave him a small smile. He turned to the sink and poured the alcohol down it, trying not to sob. He set the bottle down on the counter. “I think… I think that is all I can do,” he said.

“That’s okay. One less bottle is still progress,” Daisy said. They carefully took his hand. “C’mon. There’s this cartoon that’s usually on about now that I want to show you. I think you’ll like it.” Habit was thankful for the sudden change in conversation, and followed them to the living room.

Daisy sat on his couch, absolutely captivated by the screen, where a blond girl with pigtails in an outfit that Habit thought looked like a sailor’s uniform saved the day. He couldn’t remember what Daisy had called it. Moon... something. He tried to focus on the show, but it looked like he’d been dropped in the middle of the plot, and he couldn’t stop thinking.

He’d dumped a whole bottle of alcohol down the drain. He hadn’t been able to dump out even half a bottle before today. Kamal had tried, but it just hadn’t worked. He’d given Habit a few lectures and pleading looks, and they’d never worked. Daisy just… asked him to. They just asked him to, as if it were as simple as pulling a weed. And… and it had been. Just… down the drain.

“We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to,” Daisy said, making him jump.

“Oh! No! I’m sorry, I was spacing out,” Habit replied. 

“It’s okay, Habit. We don’t have to watch.” Their tone wasn’t upset, or disappointed, it was just… stating another fact.

“I would like to turn it off,” Habit said. Daisy nodded and turned the TV off. 

Simple.

“Is there anything else you want to do?” Daisy asked. “Maybe a board game?”

“I think… I think I would like to be alone,” Habit said. “So… you can go home. I’d like you to.”

Daisy hesitated, but ultimately nodded and stood from the couch. Habit showed them out, not wanting to be rude. “Is it okay if I come back tomorrow?” They asked when they were at the door. “Wallus is still pretty sick, and Kamal asked if I could keep an eye on you.”

Habit held his breath for a moment. “Okay,” he said, without really thinking. “That is all right, yes.”

Daisy grinned at him, and he couldn’t help smiling back. Their teeth didn’t disgust him.

He waved to them as they went to climb on their bike and ride off. He sat on his couch and thought for a long time. Some of it staring into space, some of it genuine thought. He couldn’t puzzle out why Daisy’s simple approach of just asking him to do something had worked. It shouldn’t have been that simple! If it was that simple, why hadn’t he done it years ago? He couldn’t asked himself to do that at any time, and it would have worked?

He sighed heavily and checked the time. It was only three in the afternoon, but he needed a nap. He trudged upstairs, and fell into bed. Normally he had a drink before he went to sleep. More like five drinks, actually. But today he was just tired.

So he laid down, shut his brain off as best as he could, and slept.

* * *

Daisy came by the next day, and then the day after that, and then the day after that too. They gardened, they ate lunch, they watched Sailor Moon (and Daisy had brought their VHSes so he could be caught up with the plot), they talked. They made slow progress.

Daisy asked him to wear gloves when working with thorny flowers. He did. They asked him to clean his closet. He did. They asked him to give them his hands when he began to scratch. He did. They asked him if he wanted a hug.

He did.

“I don’t understand,” he said one day. It was the last day Daisy was coming over. Wallus was better now, Kamal just wanted one more day to see if he was really going to be okay. Daisy needed to get back to work at their family’s shop. It was their last day together, and Habit had to find out what their secret was. 

“What don’t you understand? I have the plot basically memorized, I can catch you up!” Daisy said. 

“Not about the show, silly,” Habit replied. Daisy let out a small, “oh!” and paused the show. “I don’t understand how… how when you ask me to do something I just… I just can. Why didn’t it work years ago? Why doesn’t it work when I ask myself?”

Daisy was quiet for a moment, and when they spoke, they were hesitant. “I don’t think it works when you ask yourself,” they said. “I mean… it can. But… not as well. I ask myself to do stuff all the time and I don’t. Normal stuff too, not just stuff like this. Surely you’ve done that. Like… ‘Hey, Daisy, you should probably call your grandma!’. Or, ‘Hey, Boris, you should put on gloves when working with dirt!’. It’s not even stuff you don’t want to do, it’s anything. Either we forget, or we just don’t do it. And… I think that’s normal. Most everyone I’ve met does it.

“But when someone else asks you to, it’s different. When Dad tells me to call grandma, I remember better. When Kamal tells you to put on gloves, you probably remember better, right?” Habit nodded. “I don’t see why it isn’t the same with recovery. If I just… ask you to do something, you can probably do it better if you ask yourself.”

“But… Kamal has done that before. Why hasn’t it worked with him?” Habit asked.

“How does he ask you?” 

Habit mulled it over for a moment. “He’ll tell me why I should do it. And… and sometimes how to, but usually only when I ask.”

“I think you already know why you should do the things I ask you to do,” Daisy said, “so I don’t see the point in explaining it again.” They carefully reached out and took Habit’s hand. “I just… ask. Simply. It’s the best way to communicate. And… and because you’re doing better, you’re able to.”

“I’m doing better?” Habit asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah!” Daisy answered with a big grin. “I know that, when you were at your worst, if I had asked you to stop the Habitat things, you probably wouldn’t have. I had to give you a little something extra to remind you about what was important. But now, because you’re better, I can just ask! And you do! And I’m really really proud of you for it!”

Habit could only see a blurry outline of them at that point, and he quickly hugged them before the tears could start. They wrapped their little arms around him in return. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Of course, Boris,” they replied.

* * *

Boris was walking through downtown after therapy. Kamal had parked far away again. It had been a good session. He was only drinking about twice a week now, and nowhere near as much as before. He’d gone for two days without scratching himself. The nightmares hadn’t let up, but he’d started writing them down, like his doctor had suggested weeks ago. He was surprised how much it helped. 

He stopped in front of the flower shop. He waved. Daisy waved back. They gave him a big grin, and he gave one back, showing off his teeth. The both had the right amount now. Daisy had dentures, and Habit had removed the excess (including a couple on his natural upper row). 

He knew Daisy would send him an email that night. He knew Kamal would give him a big grin when he got in the car. He knew that he’d garden, that he’d eat, that he’d sleep. 

He had habits, good and bad.

And he was slowly adding more and more good ones.


End file.
